Heartfelt
Heartfelt by Rev. L. John Gable
June 26, 2016
Have you ever had a relationship that was so fractured you wondered if it could ever be repaired? A falling out with someone, a parent, a child, a brother, a sister, a long-time friend, that once was close and loving, but then became distant and cold, even hateful, perhaps for a reason you can’t even recall? Was it something they did, or you did, or didn’t do? Something said or left unsaid that has caused the hurt and brokenness. Perhaps it was a particular behavior, theirs or yours, that drove you apart, an attitude, an addiction, a lifestyle, a falling away from the faith, and suddenly the gap between you appears to be so enormous that despite your best efforts seems unbridgeable?
This is in part what Paul is dealing with in his letter to the Galatians. Admittedly we are getting only one half of the story. It is somewhat like listening to someone else talking on the telephone, getting only one half of the conversation and wondering who they are talking to and what they are talking about. Or reading a letter, as we are here, in which specific circumstances are being referred to without your understanding of what really happened, so one can only assume and surmise.
We know that Paul was the founding pastor of the churches in that region, and that once his relationship with those new believers was very close. He speaks with loving affection of the welcome and care they gave him when he was with them despite some kind of an ailment he was suffering which would have given then cause to reject him, but they didn’t. They treated him “like an angel, like Christ Jesus Himself”, he says. But now there has been some kind of a falling out between them and Paul is trying to repair the breach. Why? Because he is their pastor. He loves these people as his own children and refers to them as such.
We know that they, the Galatian believers, had strayed from the core Gospel of salvation by grace through faith in Jesus Christ that Paul had taught them and were beginning to follow “another Gospel” being taught by so called Judaizers who believed that salvation was secured by faith in Jesus Christ “plus” something more, specifically obedience to the Mosaic Law, and this is what got Paul so riled up. There is nothing more, but Christ and Christ alone.
This particular passage of Scripture has been really challenging for Bible translators to translate. You’ll notice all of the differences if you look at a variety of different translations, as we do at the Pastors’ Bible study on Wednesday mornings, which by the way is open to everyone. It is led by the pastors; it is not for the pastors. The reason for the difficulty in translation is that in this section of his letter Paul moves away from his logical, rational refutation of the Galatian’s wayward behavior and begins to speak from the heart, heart to heart. He kind of blurts out his emotions as he appeals to them to return to the fold.
As you will recall he opens this letter white hot! He is angry with the Galatians for abandoning the message he preached and following another way. So there is no real word of greeting or rehashing of fond memories shared together. Instead he jumps right in, saying, “How can you believe such foolishness? I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting the One who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel, not that there is another gospel.” We get that initial response, don’t we? We too have had those flashes of anger as well with those with whom we disagree. Anger is a natural first response to feelings of betrayal or wrongdoing.
But as Paul continues to write he becomes calmer and more rational, as do we typically in our conversations once we realize our knee-jerk reaction of anger didn’t get us anywhere in our attempts at reconciliation. Paul argues logically and passionately that there is no salvation outside of the grace of Jesus Christ, there is no law that can save us. As we saw last week, the Law had its place, its function as a guardian and disciplinarian until the time of Christ, but now that Christ has come the Law no longer serves in that capacity. Its purpose now is to point us to Christ and guide us in godly living.
We too try to present our rational arguments to those with whom we disagree. We do our best to present our reasons why their behavior is so destructive, not to mention disappointing to us. We try to point out as clearly as we can how the other’s behavior is damaging to them and hurtful or even harmful to others. We plead for a change in behavior for their sake and our own.
We read in our Old Testament lesson the story of Lot and his family leaving the sin-filled cities of Sodom and Gomorrah and being instructed “Don’t look back.” Don’t turn again to your sinful behavior, and we know how that story ends. The cities are destroyed by the judgment of God and Lot’s wife is turned to a pillar of salt because she looked back to the past.
There is something about our former behavior, even when it is destructive, that is alluring to us. The Children of Israel began to complain when they ran out of food and water in the wilderness and began to think longingly of the “good old days back in Egypt”, until Moses had to remind them, “Don’t forget, we were slaves back there and now we are free.” Here Paul is pleading with the Galatians, “Don’t go back. Don’t look back. Don’t follow the elemental spirits which only bind you because now you are free in Christ.”
Sometimes that kind of logical, rational argument works, at least for a while, but too often our hearts and our trust are broken again when they go back to their old patterns of behavior. And we wonder, as does Paul, if all of our teaching and instruction and nurturing was for naught.
So clearly Paul is willing to try anything to win the Galatians back, anger, logic, persuasion, but in the passage we read this morning his tone seems to change, as he begins to speak straight from the heart, heart to heart. I find this passage so touching. We really see Paul’s pastoral heart here, his genuine concern and caring and love for these people. His language is plaintive and tender. His tone is one of anguish and anxiety. He confesses, “I am afraid that my work for you may have been wasted.” We can hear his discouragement and disappointment. Will they change their ways? Will this relationship be restored? We hear his plea, Is there anything more I can do to win you back to me, to Christ? I have heard and even used this same plea extended toward those who today have wandered from the faith.
He seems also to become self-reflective. You have done me no wrong, he says, so is it something I said or did that offended you? If so, I’m sorry, but I was only trying to speak the truth to you, a hard truth perhaps, but spoken in love. What is going on between us? What has become of the goodwill you felt? Have I now become your enemy by telling you the truth? Believe me when I tell you, my motives are good and pure, not like those who are trying to deceive you now, and my intentions are ones of love, for you and for God.
Paul almost sounds desperate here as he tries to find a way to heal the brokenness he feels with these people he calls his “little children”. He speaks of feeling the “pain of childbirth” so that Christ can be formed in them again. He even realizes that his words, written on a page or a parchment, are insufficient to carry the weight of his message. We have experienced the same in our communications with others by letter or by email, haven’t we? We can read or write the words, but we can’t hear the tone or feel the emotion, so often our words are misunderstood or misinterpreted. When that happens we are best to stop writing and go to visit, face to face. So much of good communication is non-verbal. It is not just what we say, but how we say it, the tone of our voice, our body language, the expressions on our face. This is what Paul is struggling with here when he writes, “My little children, I wish I was present with you now and could change my tone, for I am perplexed about you.”
We can hear ourselves and our own pleas in these words, can’t we? We will literally do anything, save abandoning our own principles and faith, to restore the relationship with someone with whom we’ve had a falling out. And sometimes that plain-spoken honesty from the heart wins the day. Hearts are softened and the relationship is healed and restored, but not always. In fact, while we haven’t yet gotten to the end of this letter, we don’t know if the relationship between Paul and the Galatians was ever restored. The healing of a broken relationship is often more art than it is science, miracle than merely following a prescribed methodology for fixing what is broken. So we will try any approach possible to restore our broken relationships, not knowing which, if any of them, will work. Human relationships are complex and complicated and fragile, that is why we must always do our best and do our part to keep our ledgers short with one another, not harboring grudges or resentments, lest little fractures become great fissures between us and others.
Yet what strikes me most about this passage, and it is something each of us must keep in mind and pray to maintain, particularly as we work through difficult passages in our relationships, is that Paul clearly never stops loving these people who have abandoned his teaching and deeply disappointed and offended him. Yes, his words are hard and no doubt difficult to write and to read, but in them we can still hear a soft heart of love and concern and compassion. Paul’s desire is clearly for reconciliation and restoration of their relationship.
I hear in this passage, as much as I do in anything Paul writes, his “pastor’s heart”, his genuine love and concern for his flock. I hear the heart of the father who waits patiently and runs with abandon when the prodigal returns home. I hear the heart of the Heavenly Father who also waits patiently and runs with abandon to welcome us, His obstinent, rebellious, prodigal children, when we return home.
Perhaps, even now, you are going through a difficult patch with someone you love: a parent, a child, a brother, a sister, a long-time friend. Maybe you know exactly what it is that caused the falling out, whether it be your fault or theirs, perhaps all that is needed is a word of apology or of forgiveness. Do that today. Maybe you don’t have any idea what fractured your friendship. Humbly pray for understanding. Seek insights from wise and trusted counselors and the prayers of faithful warriors. But in all of this, safeguard your heart. Keep a soft heart toward those with whom you disagree; those by whom you have been hurt; those you might even be tempted to hate. Keep a soft heart so that when there is even a hint of turning, in them or in you, you will be ready to run, to welcome, to embrace, to forgive, to love them once again, as God in Christ has you. Amen.
Prayer: Using the prayer attributed to St. Francis of Assisi.
Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred; let me sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
And where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; for it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life. Amen.